Soul of Storm and Fire
by OnyxZephyr
Summary: "Forgiveness is the first step to healing." Years after the war's end, the world is still wounded. The role of recovery is about to be handed down to the next generation. But as the kin of team Avatar will soon find, not everyone is so forgiving.


_"Beyond a wholesome discipline,_  
_ be gentle with yourself._  
_ You are a child of the universe_  
_ no less than the trees and the stars;_  
_ you have a right to be here._  
_ And whether or not it is clear to you,_  
_ no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should."_

_Excerpt from _Desiderata_, a poem by Max Ehrman_

**Chapter 1 : Meeting with the Fire Lord**

_The more things change, the more they stay the same._

It was a popular saying that he had heard time and again growing up, but because they were words often spoken by his Uncle, Firelord Zuko had revered them to be something above a common proverb.

As he walked down the familiar halls leading up to the throne room, their walls adorned with paintings of past Lords of this nation, he couldn't help but wonder at his nostalgia towards them. Certainly, after the end of the 100-year war and the fall of the Old Ways, many had suggested he take down the portraits of his three predecessors who had been responsible for the start and upholding of such a horrific reign. Much to the surprise of all, or at least those who did not know him well, he refused.

There was no use hiding the past, he had explained. Rather, it was good to never forget mistakes, lest they be repeated. This period of time was a scar in the history of the fire nation, and a very ugly one at that. But, as Zuko knew well, scars were the best reminders of failures and, more importantly, the growth that comes from them.

The two large, iron-wrought doors leading into the throne room were actually left slightly open. It was a point of minor annoyance that he filed away in his head to make a point of later. Meetings like these often called for at least something of a pronounced entrance, and the simplest form of that is the opening of such large doors as these. It wasn't that he wanted attention, of course. If it were up to him, matters would be handled over tea in the lounging area, but political discussions required formalities, and he did need to uphold a sense of authority to be taken seriously. A nation divided was very hard to keep under control, and so as a leader of such a state, he needed to seem like he had a stronghold on all matters at hand.

This was, sadly, far from the truth.

Two attendants suddenly appeared on the other side, having realized his presence, and they each grasped a handle to pry the doors open and let him through. They bowed deeply as he passed and he gave each a swift, appreciative nod before focusing his attention ahead.

The old war-table had been set up, as asked, with a dimensional map of their world and small figures placed about. Nine delegates from across the nations framed the table on either side. They stood swiftly at his arrival, followed shortly by two other figures at the head. His children.

In regards to change, one thing he had done immediately after his coronation was move the throne itself from its eerie perch that overlooked the room down to the floor. He wanted people to understand that he meant it when he said his priority was healing the nations. For this reason, he wanted to be on equal ground with all who came to discuss matters here.

Two smaller seats designated for his son and daughter flanked his throne. Izumi stood to his left and Anzai to his right, always. As expected, they kept their positions at the head of the table, waiting on him to take his place among the meeting.

"Fire Lord," the congregation said in unison once he had closed the distance. They all bowed in the traditional Fire Nation fashion as he passed and finally stopped at the other end of the table overlooking the map.

He nodded again and they all fell into their casual stances, some flipping through papers, some staring intently at the map, and others yet writing down notes. He looked to his sides at his heirs. Izumi was among the gazers, watching the figurines as if they were springing into action. Her mouth moved with her thoughts as she doubtlessly was calculating some outcome or another. To his right, Anzai was as usual calm and hard to read. Still, he turned to meet his father's glance and the two immediately had to turn away for fear of bursting into laughter as they sometimes did in these situations.

Zuko cleared his throat to call the group to attention.

"Thank you for coming, everyone," he started, taking a moment to glance at each face. "I'm aware we're having some problems with opposition and the like around, and it's becoming rather heated of late. If you will, I'd like to hear updates."

The delegates looked around at each other, all very much not wanting to initiate the conversation. After a few moments, an older man, perhaps in his late 50s, spoke up.

"Yes, my lord, there are a few cases of the Nations rejecting our volunteer and restoration companies deeper in the Earth Kingdom," he explained. "Many of our volunteers are returning out of fear or frustration."

Another chimed in, this time a middle-aged woman. "And on that note, there have been complaints about the heightened taxes. Main-land citizens aren't thrilled with paying for the efforts ..."

"And,' came a third, " we are having trouble with recruitment for the groups we are sending out."

A few others nodded in agreement. Zuko could feel his face scrunch slightly in thought as he mulled over the complaints in his mind. The answer seemed pretty obvious, but he wanted to see what his heirs could come up with first.

"Anzai. Thoughts?"

His son took a deep breath, indicating that he was considering the situation. The young man had a soft, handsome face that rarely let on what was going on inside his mind. His pitch-black hair was tied up tight in the Imperial Knot style, as was tradition, and dark eyes peered thoughtfully down at the table. His approachable demeanor and sharp insight to the human condition were his greatest weapons, and he knew it. Lucky for everyone, he was truly good at heart and only made use of these talents when absolutely necessary.

Where he got these traits, Zuko wasn't sure. Certainly not from himself or Mai. In retrospect, Anzai reminded him of Uncle Iroh so much it was uncanny sometimes.

"Perhaps suggest a tax break for families that have members who volunteer," he suggested at length. "That way there's incentive to go."

"A good suggestion," the Firelord praised.

"That won't work," Izumi chimed in, countering her younger brother's ideas as usual. Her process of thinking was meticulous, precise, and pointed, very much like her appearance. Unlike Anzai who often let loose outside formal events, she always kept herself preened to perfection. Her features were sharp and smooth and she was often the center of attention. She enjoyed going out to parties and networking as much as possible.

It amazed Zuko every day how he and Mai could have born such social butterflies.

"Oh? Why not?" Anzai challenged. "Well how do you expect to fund all this? Introducing a tax break would mean that everyone who's already currently out there would be expecting it, too. We already foot the bill for their boarding, food, and allowances and the tax break will mean less money to back up the programs."

"What other option, then? What about protecting them?"

"Well, we still have a heavy wave of graduates going into the military. Since we have no real use for an army anymore, we should send them as defense," she replied.

"That won't work," he repeated with an ever-so-slight tone of mockery. Zuko could almost feel Izumi's eye twitch.

"Enlighten me."

"The rebels are scared. Sending more military will just feel threatening."

"Maybe we should send a crew of yoga instructors to love-and-peace them into calm, then?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. It'd be better than more soldiers, in my opinion…"

The pair started bickering as was typical. Most of the delegates were used to this by now. The siblings would go back and forth until eventually something would be said with the intent to insult but that actually made sense and be somewhere in the middle. Things would get solved. It was just the process that could be annoying.

Zuko sighed and turned his attention back to the group as they watched the spectacle. Most were waiting patiently for the argument to settle, one or two looked on in surprise. These were obviously the newcomers.

And that's when he noticed her.

A young woman, the second to last member on the left row. She was very young for a politician; perhaps only a few years older than Izumi, in fact.

And she was strikingly beautiful. She had long, pin-straight reddish-brown hair that was tied back in a half-ponytail and there were thin braids randomly placed throughout the rest.

And her eyes…they were a brilliant, almost unnatural sea-green color. Like gems.

She was staring straight at him, and when he noticed this a chill shot throughout his body. He wanted to look away but couldn't. It was as though her very gaze was some sort of ice that trapped him in place. It wasn't until he felt a soft tug on his robe that he snapped out of it.

"Father?" To his left Izumi was looking at him with an expression of annoyance.

"Uh..w..yes?" His daughter's eyebrows raised and she blinked a few times.

"The university plan," Anzai explained. "Do you think volunteer program offering credits would work?"

It took the Fire Lord a few moments to collect himself. He faced his son, who gave him a slight glance of concern. He must have noticed. Izumi was a little less observant when riled, thankfully.

"It would make sense," Zuko answered at length. "That way they pay their own way and rebels are less likely to attack students."

"Told you," Izumi smirked, but Anzai ignored her completely.

"Delegates?" The group nodded in agreement. Zuko dared to look in the direction of the woman again but she was not looking at him, not directly anyway. "Very well," he continued. "Anzai, Izumi. I expect a draft of the program to be presented next week."

"Of course."

"So. On to the next order of business."

…..

The meeting went on for another half hour or so. Mostly proposals and the like for different outreach programs.

It was difficult coming up with ideas to help the world right now. The Fire Nation was responsible for helping but they also had to mend their image. That was proving to be the hardest part. In his twenty-five years as Fire Lord, it hadn't gotten any easier.

How he wished Aang could be around more. But the Avatar had much of his own business to attend to. Still, his old friend stopped by when he could.

As the delegates filed out of the room, chattering amongst themselves, Zuko found himself staring at the back of that woman's head. She paused for a moment as if she could feel his look but then moved on. Without knowing it, Zuko was glaring at her.

Izumi excused herself and ran off once they had all left but Anzai stayed behind.

"That's not like you," his son said.

"Have you seen her around before?"

"Never." You should ask Zumi, or even mom. They seem to know everybody." Zuko nodded, then shook his head to get himself back on earth. "Well, I'll be going now. See you at dinner."

Anzai strode out of the room and left his father alone in the now dead silent room. He scratched his beard thoughtfully, unsure what to make of everything. With a deep sigh, he began to follow suit in exit when a shuffle from behind some curtains caught his attention. He paused, turning his head sharply in the direction of the sound.

Another round of movement ignited an unusual worry and he immediately threw his hands up in stance, ready to blow a few flames at any introduers.

"Show yourself!" he demanded. The movement stopped, for a moment, and then clear footsteps could be heard.

He was both shocked and not when the woman from the meeting emerged from hiding. His eyes instantly narrowed again and he did not let his gaurd down for a second. She lifted her hands up as if in defeat.

"I come in peace," she said, and there was an undertone of amusement in her voice. That was not helping her situation.

"What are you doing here?"

"I don't mean to be sneaking about. I thought I dropped some reports." He said nothing in reply and they stood for a small while. After he refused to let up, she dropped her hands. "Perhaps I left them on the table. But I see you're not in the mood to wait around. I'll send someone to fetch them later. By the way..my name's Rin." With that she bowed and exited the room.

That was it.

He should have stopped her, he knew, but he couldn't. Instead he stood stupefied in his fighting stance.

Finally he relaxed, and turned to the war-table. Indeed, there was a pile of scribbled parchment from where she sat. He strode over and lifted the pack up.

In large letters, the cover page stated:

"The Colicus Games. Proposal for a Fire Nation Hosted World-Wide Bending Tournament."


End file.
